November 3, 2001

New Hampshire - Day 11: Six Flags

-Monday, July 30, 2001-

7:15 a.m.

We’re on the road to Six Flags in Massachusetts. Amy’s seat was pushed all the way forward to allow people to climb into the backseat, and she was slightly uncomfortable. “Why is this front thing so far up?” she asked. I love her way with words.

8:02 a.m.

We’ve passed through three signs reading, “N.H. Liquor Store. Sweeps Tickets.” This state-run liquor store has an exit all to itself.

8:20 a.m.

I just saw another interesting sign that read, “Take a Break. Stay Awake. For Safety Sake.” (Sam and I agreed that it should be “Safety’s,” not “Safety.”)

While I’m writing down amusing things, I just remembered something funny that Leen said while we were driving back from Newick’s last night. She told a story that, while not at all boring, probably could have been told a bit more quickly. “To make a short story long, “ she said, and I thought it was a great line.

9:03 a.m.

We stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts shop for coffee and doughnuts, and I decided that I like their coffee. The stores are found all over the eastern part of the United States., but we don’t have them in California. While there, Amy went into the bathroom and put her hair under the hand dryer, since she didn’t have time to blow dry her hair this morning. I thought it was funny, but it worked.

9:33 a.m.

We’re passing through Worcester, Massachusetts, which led to a discussion of how to pronounce the name. Then we passed a sign that I mistakenly read as, “Picking up on discharging passengers is prohibited.” (The word “on” is not really on the sign.)

10:15 a.m.

We just went through a tollbooth, where a handwritten sign gave directions to Six Flags. The tollbooth attendants must get asked for directions to the amusement park quite frequently. We’re now in Springfield, Massachusetts, and we just passed a building with large letters on it reading, “TOWERSQUARE.” That’s yet another one of those things that could be missing a letter, as it might be “Tower Square” or “Towers Square.”

We’re driving in one very wide lane that’s a traffic circle.

10:45 a.m.

After paying a fee to park next to a bright yellow convertible Porsche in a very normal asphalt parking lot, we waited for a shuttle that would take us to the amusement park gate. The shuttle eliminated some walking, but it dropped us off before the numerous stairs that led into the park itself. We were armed with Pepsi cans, courtesy of Sam’s mom, that saved each of us $8 on the admission price. While we were waiting to buy tickets, a large group of school-aged kids were standing nearby, probably waiting for the rest of their group. Several of them were drumming their hands on a metal trash can, and it actually sounded quite good.

11:01 a.m.

We are now in line for Superman, the biggest attraction in this park. Having grown up without TV, I know next to nothing about Superman. Large posters are up in one section of the waiting area, and I’m intrigued. I knew that Lois Lane, his sidekick and significant other (I think), was a journalist, but that was basically where my knowledge of Superman ended. The fact that his job—other than saving the world—was that of a reporter is news to me. I really should find out more about the whole Superman phenomenon.

11:55 a.m.

We’re about to get on Superman. The wait could have been a lot longer than an hour, so I’m very glad we came on a weekday. A large section of the queuing line was blocked off because it wasn’t needed, but Sam and Leen waited in this line for three and a half hours on one of the hottest days of summer last time they came to Six Flags. Even so, they said it was worth it.

12:15 p.m.

Superman ruled! Yes, it was most definitely worth the wait! After Superman, Sam, Amy, and I went on the Poison Ivy ride while Leen waited for us. Now we’re thinking about lunch.

12:30 p.m.

After stopping to get a huge turkey leg for Leen, we went to the car and ate lunch. Sam had packed tuna sandwiches for the remaining three of us, and we are now sitting in the car with the air conditioning blasting full force.

We took the shuttle from the park to the car, but this time the shuttle was in the form of a yellow school bus. It’s been years since I’ve been on a school bus, but that short ride brought back a lot of memories. I spent over two hours a day on a school bus when I was in elementary school, so I knew just about everything there was to know about the interior of a school bus. It seems like just yesterday that I was closely observing the green seats with the grooved lines that made unique patterns on the vinyl covering. I used to see shapes and pictures in those lines, and it provided easy entertainment.

The only thing that seemed wrong with the school bus was the height of the seat backs. From my perspective as a kid, those seats looked huge. They used to be taller than me and seemed to hide me from everyone else. Those were also the days when we had to fit three people to a seat. I looked at those seats today, and there is simply no way three of us could sit in one seat now. For some reason, though, my memories of the school bus in high school aren’t as strong. I remember riding the bus until I could get a ride or was old enough to drive, but I don’t remember a point at which I “grew into” those seats. If I stretch my memory, I can vaguely remember sitting with my back to the window and my arm across the seat back as I talked to other high school students. I suppose that means that the seats really weren’t so high as they once seemed, but it’s almost as if high school was another world. My memories of school buses from my childhood are much more vivid.

Amy and I sat in a seat over the wheel, and that brought back even more school bus memories. The floor area over the wheels is humped, thus creating less legroom under the seat. When I was younger, I didn’t like those seats because it meant that I didn’t have as much floor space in which to stow my backpack. But now that I was reliving the past, I loved seeing the raised floor over the wheels again. It was yet another memory of a seemingly very distant past.

1:20 p.m.

After lunch, we headed back to the park and rode the carousel. (That was the only horse I would ride while in New Hampshire.)

2 p.m.

We just went on the bumper cars, which I always enjoy. The only drawback was that we had to drive in a circular fashion around a center point. However, it was still fun, and I felt a small sense of power when I was the cause of a whole traffic jam. That jam didn’t last long, and we spent the rest of the time chasing each other around. Now we’re in line for the Log Flume, where we may or may not get wet.

2:20 p.m.

The Log Flume was very refreshing, and I got wet enough to cool off a little.

2:45 p.m.

Sam and I went on the Ferris Wheel while Leen and Amy decided not to subject themselves to the tallest Ferris Wheel in New England. The wheel circled slowly, and I could see most of the park and the surrounding area. The view was amazing, and it was fun to look down and see what appeared to be miniature versions of Leen and Amy.

3:30 p.m.

“I hate Massachusetts!” Sam said, as he attempted to turn around after missing an exit.

But now we’re on the right road, headed for home. We’re on the Massachusetts Turnpike, and the scenery isn’t quite the same as New Hampshire’s, although it’s still beautiful.

A girl in the car next to us is cleaning a CD by scrubbing it with her tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that done before.

We just passed an exit for Podunk Road, which I think is a great name. Another sign just said the area is patrolled by unmarked police cars. I don’t recall every seeing such a sign in California, and I don’t think we have unmarked cars watching for speeders, either. (If we do, they haven’t found me yet.)

6:40 p.m.

We just had a nice dinner at Cracker Barrel, two hours from Six Flags. They serve Southern food, and it was very tasty. As we were figuring out the bill in Cracker Barrel, Amy made us laugh so hard. She looked in her wallet, saw that she didn’t have the right amount of change, and said, “I have the stupidest amount of money.”

We looked around in the adjoining gift shop for a while, and Sam beat me at a fast game of giant checkers. Then we all sat outside in some extremely comfortable wooden rocking chairs. We were reluctant to leave but finally dragged ourselves back to the car.

Amy just told us about the “cuss jar” where she works. Every time someone says a swear word, that person must put a nickel in the jar. In addition, a “Duh” requires a nickel to be put in the jar. We stopped Amy at that point, wondering what on earth a “Duh” was. To our great amusement, Amy explained that a “Duh” is when you don’t do something right or make a stupid mistake, thus causing you or someone else to say, “Duh!” In addition, talking badly about someone requires another nickel to go in the jar, and if someone makes a “production mistake,” that costs a quarter. We laughed when Amy said the jar already has $85 in it, and that’s only from the last six months.

7:30 p.m.

Amy, seated in the front, just turned to wave at Leen and me. “You’re the Backseat Girls!” she said, and we all shared another laugh. (That was a take-off on the Backstreet Boys, a popular boy band.)

7:45 p.m.

We’re home, and Jake left envelopes on the doorstep while we were gone. He left money to pay back Sam and Leen, a piece of gravel and money for the hotel room for Amy, and, even though he didn’t owe me money, he left me an envelope so I “wouldn’t feel left out.” It contained one of his origami frogs, constructed of green paper, and the note explained that the frog was, “Sooooooo green!” (I keep commenting on how green everything is in New Hampshire.)

8:30 p.m.

Amy’s telling stories about her grandpa, who spent the last years of his life in a nursing home. The family made daily visits and always saw amusing things while they were there. One old lady never did call Amy’s grandpa by his name, but instead “called him something funny — like Bernard, except worse,” said Amy. Another time, a white lady said to a black woman, both of whom lived in the nursing home, “No, don’t go in that room! There’s black people in there.” The black woman said, “Oh, OK,” and followed the white woman elsewhere.

Amy likes the papisan chairs that look like satellite dishes, and she is sitting in one right now. “I need two satellites; one for my TV, one for my butt,” she stated.

11:37 p.m.

Rebecca’s mobile is temporarily hanging from the light in Leen’s workroom, we looked at it, and I realized that I hadn’t written in the miniature notebook I had contributed to the project. While I wrote in it, Leen unwrapped and rearranged the horses she took to the convention, and Sam lay on the floor and looked up at the mobile. I finished writing, and then I joined in on the mobile watching. There’s something indescribable about looking up into a mobile. The arms swing in gentle circles, and the pieces just barely miss one another. They never pass each other in the same way twice, so it never gets old. On the contrary, it’s quite soothing and relaxing.

However, it got late, and soon it was time to go to bed. We’ve had an exhausting several days, and we’re doing more things tomorrow. And now I’m going to either collapse or sleep.

Go back to the New Hampshire Journal Index